To plan, or not to plan, that is the dilemma we have faced. Earlier in the week, we sketched out a rough plan of what we would do each day whilst here on Alonnisos, but on Monday we were hungry and didn’t want to wait for the evening bus to the Chora, so we changed that plan. On Wednesday, we loved our day on the local town beach, so changed plans again and went back there today.
Its good to have some idea of what you are going to do on your travels, but those plans don’t need to be set in stone. Its only taken a couple of days and we are already operating on “Greek time” – taking things slow, and letting the world wash over you, like the clear, refreshing Aegean sea.
Lunch was simple: bread, breadsticks, fruit and veg picked up fresh that morning, the day was spent reading, swimming or just staring into the vast blue yonder. What plan could better that?
And this evening we did make it back up to the Chora, and enjoyed a wonderful meal, in a lovely – yet not twee – taverna with magnificent sweeping views out to sea. With the vibrant hues of a the setting sun providing the canvas as we awaited the bus for the ten-minute trip back down the hill, it was the perfect and picturesque end to an unplanned day.
Over the years, we’ve come to learn that shade is a vital commodity on the beach and would typically buy a beach umbrella when we first arrived in country, use it for our holidays, before leaving it behind in our accommodation, hoping that the next occupants may use it.
For our last few trips, however, we have taken our umbrella with us, packed in the bag along with my rucksack for the flight (although this does mean it needs to go in oversize luggage with the added risk it doesn’t make it smoothly to your destination as happened on our flight here ) Today, loaded up like a pack horse with normal beach stuff, plus the umbrella, and a couple of chairs, we headed of to the town beach for the day.
It is a beach that has captured my heart …
but was a stoney beach and, with a bit of a breeze, some serious engineering was needed to secure the umbrella. A couple of years ago, we bought a “screw in anchor” for the umbrella pole – great for sandy beaches, less so for stone, so some excavation to place to bury this as far as possible (not far!) and then build a base of rocks up around it. But my real achievement came three weeks ago one Sunday morning back in England. Thinking ahead, I used jubilee clips and plastic tie wraps to create a couple of loops on the poles – we took a reel of ribbon with us on holiday and were able to create guy ropes for the umbrella, secured by a couple of big rocks. As the wind got up, the umbrella fluttered in the breeze but stayed anchored in spot all day. I must say, I was rather pleased with (and rather enjoyed) my civil engineering first thing in the morning!
Chuffed with my efforts, I went for a swim in the clear waters. Whilst I explored the bay, Becky built a tower of stones …
Having been bitten by the engineering bug, I thought I, too, could build my own tower, so I did …
With gyros on the beach for a (late) lunch, it was a lovely chilled day on the beach
before ambling back through town – stopping for coffee and ice cream – on our way back to the apartment. A shower later, we headed back into town for a meal and as we returned to our room for the final time we (well, I) took the opportunity to get up close and personal with a Seajets ferry docked up overnight.
This morning we took the bus from the port/harbour (Patitiri) up to the old town, or Chora, (or Hora depending on how you want to turn your Greek into English. My Greek remains limited to a few very basic works, but I am starting to make an effort to at least look at words written in Greek and think how they might be written in the English alphabet, but I digress.)
A ten minute, and 1.80 euro each, bus ride from “town” delivered us to the Chora to be rewarded with magnificent sea views and a charming village of old buildings and cobbled streets tumbling through the town. We spotted a swallows nest, with youngsters big enough soon to fly the nest – perhaps an apt metaphor as we find out tomorrow what our youngest has scored in his final exams and his degree classification.
For all its charm an beauty, the Chora has been touched by tragedy. In 1965 it was hit by an earthquake, with many inhabitants forced to live in tents for two years before being made to move down to the port of Patitri. Life – and residents – have returned to the Chora, but we saw more than one dilapidated building for sale, and one begins to dream ….
More poignantly, we encountered a memorial to 9 citizens of Alonnisos that were put to death in the second world war, an important reminder of man’s inhumanity to man, and must not be forgotten.
The busses to and from the Chora are not frequent, so we walked back to Patitiri down the old donkey path, a wide cobbled path that wound its way down through the countryside. It was a pleasant “amble”, if somewhat hot, and after about 30 mins we stumbled back into town and rewarded ourselves with our first gyros of the trip.
And then we found a new swimming spot. Not the easiest to access, and all surrounded by rock, but there was a ladder to allow you to get into and out of the water. (Although, of course, I found an alternative way into the water …)
Swimming in the infinity of the deep blue sea, surrounded by pine clad cliffs, I was in heaven.
Our first full day in Greece and after a quick swim in “our” pool (our apartment block is owned by the owner of the small hotel opposite, and we have full use of their pool)
we headed, via a bakery for breakfast, to the beach on the inlet parallel to the harbour (we are staying on the top, between the two). As the crow-files, possibly less than 100 metres, but the geography of the island dictated a 10 to 15 minute walk, past some sunflowers
but it was so worth it.
The beach was not big, perhaps 100m wide (?), largely organised (ie covered with sunbeds – 15 euros for a pair and umbrella – and some tavernas, bars and mini-market fringing the beach) but with un-organised space at either end. We found ourselves a rocky jetty to settle down on, and before long I was in the water. It was/is the perfect swimming spot – easy to get in and out, the water crystal clear, getting deep quickly and the cove extended outwards for a couple of hundred metres, flanked by rocky cliffs, topped with green pine trees full of “singing” cicadas. For me, it was perfect.
I found a rock to dive off, and spent quite some time swimming in this idyllic spot. It wasn’t just the perfect water, the surrounding scenery was serene, I loved bobbing around in the water and looking up at the roots of this pine tree, exposed, no do doubt, by some rock fall.
And then, with a loud hoot, a Seajets ferry hoved into view, heading for port in the adjacent harbour: my holy trinity was scored – Sea, sun and Seajet ferries.
We enjoyed a late lunch on the seafront ,
before heading back up the hill, happy and contented after a full dose of Greek medicine. A perfect way to start our latest Greek adventure.
And so another Grecian Odyssey begins – this time two weeks in the Sporades, a group of islands off the east coast of mainland Greece, perhaps most famous for providing the breathtaking backdrop to the film Mama Mia, much of which was filmed on the island of Skopelos (and we shall be paying our due homage to the movie, and the Swedish super-group Abba later on our travels.)
Today, we flew out from Bristol on a surprisingly empty jet (plenty of empty seats), landing on the island of Skaithos some three and a half hours later. Levels of concern did rise a little (a lot in Becky’s case) as everyone else collected their bags and headed off into the sun, whilst we, and one or two other worried souls, were left bag-less as the luggage carousel ground to a stop.
However, our worry was short lived, “oversized” (or, more accurately, mis-shapen) luggage was delivered to a separate door in baggage reclaim, and, a few minutes later we were reunited with our bags. When using hold luggage, we use rucksacks – much easier to negotiate the chaotic, and often, cobbled streets of southern Europe with a bag on your back, than trying to trundle a large suitcase along a busy and bumpy pavement.
We then caught the bus – 5 mins and 3 euros each – into the town/port, were we had a few hours to kill before catching our ferry – a rather sleek looking hydrofoil straight out of a James Bond movie – to our first destination, the island of Alonnisos.
The journey was swift, if a bit “sporty” (aka rough and bumpy) stopping off at a couple of ports on Skopelos before terminating in the calm waters of Patitiri on the island of Alonnisos. It was picturesque and pretty as we climbed a hill (always a hill!) to our accommodation, before heading back into the harbour area to enjoy a delicious Greek meal, before returning “home” and collapsing tired, but happy, into a deep sleep, dreaming of adventures yet to come.
We woke a little worried – the forecast had suggested rain (again!) this morning, but on rising, although the sky was peppered with big grey and white clouds, it wasn’t raining (yet) as we headed out, hopeful in shorts, T-shirts and fleeces (but leaving other coats behind) for breakfast. We chose an indoor setting to eat, and were glad we did as we saw umbrellas open against rain that began to fall. But by the time we had finished, so had the showers, and as the day wore on, the clouds got fewer, and the sun got stronger.
It was a day of wind and sun, which meant finding a sheltered spot and lingering, whether drinking coffee, or eating local pastry delicacies for lunch. We did walk some of the walls of the old town, affording a good view across the roof of the city and to the mountains beyond. Heraklion is not pretty, but it has grown on me over the last 48 hours. Everywhere is better when the sun shines, and today the sun shone and when sheltered from the wind it was very warm in the spring sunshine.
Blue is the colour of Greece, and we enjoyed fifty shades of blue, from sea and sky, to the painted woodwork of classic Greek fishing boats.
The sea, blown by the north wind into a small swell, did not entice me in.
A lone olive tree, against and azure blue sky rising from the infinity of the deep blue sea – the epitome of Greece.
After a couple of days of rain, and cold, we were overjoyed to see the sun shining and the sky blue, and with no definitive plan in mind, we set off to amble around Heraklion. First stop was, of course, coffee; given the city is on the north side of the island, finding a breakfast spot in the sun was not straight forward, but we did and settled down to sup coffee and soak up so sun and warmth.
We then headed through the city and began to stumble on some impressive buildings, like the Cathedral above, before hitting the (old) city walls, turning right, and heading towards the sea, and we began a pleasant stroll along the sea front. Although the sun was warm, there was a stiff breeze blowing in from the north and although we spotted a good, small, swimming beach, I was not to be persuaded to enter the cold looking sea.
We found this driftwood “boat” that I have called “Dignity”. One of my favourite songs – as much for the wonderful lyrics as the tune – is Deacon Blue’s “Dignity” and it was written in Greece (hence the line ‘sipping down raki’)
And then we reached the old fortress and harbour wall, the latter providing shelter from the wind. It is a long, long (too long in Becky’s opinion) harbour wall, and we walked its length in peace and sunshine, the blue sea to one side if us, blue sky above us, and in places along the wall, murals and art work to break the grey concrete facade.
I also read of how Zeus transformed himself into a bull, seduced Europa, and rode with her down to Crete. She bore him three sons, including Minos, who came to rule the island. The lands above Crete were named for her, and that is why Europe is so called.
The mermaid sculpture at the top of this blog post was found halfway along the harbour wall.
Wandering in the sunshine, it was a lovely way to spend the day.
And I’m telling this story In a faraway sea Sipping down raki And reading Maynard Keynes And I’m thinking about home and all that that means And a place in the winter for dignity
Almost as soon as our alarm went off this morning I was booted out of bed. Sent to the door of our apartment, my task was to see if it was raining – thankfully it wasn’t. But in the time it took to shower and shave, rain had begun to fall, another damp day beckoned. We were, of course, disappointed, but all the locals we encountered, whilst sad for us, welcomed the rain , knowing the olives need the water, and the punishing summer to come will be eased with full streams and rivers and reservoirs, so they were all happy.
I bought myself a practical “souvenir” – an umbrellas for 5 euros (Becky, had of course, packed one in her luggage before we left the UK) and found ourselves a warm, indoor coffee shop to while away an hour or so. Whilst sipping coffee and looking out on the damp streetscape in front of us, we heard hollering and hooting, which heralded a hundred or so protesters marching down the road.
Worried that there signs may say “Tourists go home” and that their ire be directed at us, we asked some Greeks in the coffee shop what the protest was about. It was the workers protesting against the government, that wages are not keeping up with the cost of living, that they have endured years of pain following the financial crisis of 2008, and bailout from the EU, but now the Greek economy is growing faster than many in the EU, but wages are too low to live on.
And whilst all flights in and out of Greece were cancelled today by an air traffic control strike, and many ferries and trains also didn’t operate, fortunately our onward travel plans – by bus from Rethymno to Heraklion – were unaffected by the strike (OK, we left circa 20 mins late, but I think that that was just due to traffic) and around 3.30 pm we arrived back in Heraklion and made the 10 minute walk to our apartment just before it started raining again.
We headed back out to explore, but our endeavours were a little half-hearted, thwarted by the rain and cold – which stung even more knowing that back home everyone is enjoying something of a heatwave. Even some very pretty trees festooned with spring blossom did little to lift the mood.
A good meal in a wonderfully warm restaurant did raise our spirits, and there was a little more spring in our step as we walked through the streets back to our new apartment, with plans hatched for what the forecast promises to be a warmer and dryer day tomorrow!
Last summer we island hopped across Greece for 5 weeks; on one day, we saw a single, small solitary cloud, for about 30 minutes, before it evaporated into the big blue sky. Today, we woke to rain, and it has been cold, grey, miserable and wet all day. There’s not too much to do in Rethmyno on a wet Tuesday in April. We went to the Museum of Contemporary Art of Crete – we (well, Becky in particular) do like an art gallery, and we had earmarked this for a visit regardless of the weather, but it was a bit underwhelming. Entry was only 3 euros pp, but the exhibits were neither inspiring or captivating.
Other than that, there was little to do but sit in cafes, drink coffee and watch the (somewhat bedraggled) world go by, before moving on to another taverna for lunch.
Much of the afternoon was spent either reading or snoozing – not a bad way to spend a day and by evening time the rain had stopped, and the forecast for tomorrow morning does suggest a return of the sun, here’s hoping …
We tend to book our travel destinations a long time in advance – working in education, we both know when our holidays are going to be for two or three years ahead, we have a list of places we’d like to go to and have learned that the cheapest way to book flights is the day they open. So it would have been last May that we booked our flights to Crete. One of the things that attracted us to Crete was the Samaria Gorge, at 16 km, the longest in Europe and a popular, all day hike. We both very much wanted to walk its length before emerging onto the beach and sea. However, we book early with a vague idea of what we want to do, then research at a more leisurely pace as the holiday approaches. This time, this strategy failed us! The Samaria gorge is only open between 1st May and 31st October (for safety reasons – in the other months, too much water flows through it, making it unsafe to traverse.)
However, a bit of googling before we left home revealed a short gorge walk not far from where we were staying in Rethymno, Mili (or Mily) gorge, so named as it is full of abandoned water mills. Finding out how to get there was a little difficult – one option we found was to use the red hop-on-hop-off tourist bus, but this would be 20 euros each, and there wasn’t much else on the route to see that we hadn’t already visited. So we asked at the bus station, and they suggested getting the bus to Chromonastiri, which we decided to do (2 euros each) These buses don’t run often – every three hours or so, and don’t trust google! The times given to us on the sheet at the bus station where correct, google was out by over an hour! Anyway, we found the bus, waited in the glorious sunshine for its arrival, before boarding what was little more than a minibus for the 20 minute journey. We got off before Chromonastiri at bus stop that the hop on hop off bus used – it was pretty obvious this was an entrance to the gorge, and headed down some steps into a beautiful, lush green world.
The walk was lovely, pictures nor words will do it justice. There was a well marked and maintained stoney trail to follow, although we did occasionally divert of the track and scramble down to the waters edge, to marvel at gushing waterfalls and gaze into deep, clear pools.
It was a lovely walk, trending down hill, but there was the odd bit of uphill as you crisscrossed the river. We did spot the odd Croc wearer, but I would recommend trainers as the footwear of choice and a reasonable level of fitness and agility would be needed, but certainly do-able by most, children included. Towards the end of the trail, we came to the Banana Tavern were we had a drink and light lunch in what seemed like a tropical oasis.
We did then make a mistake in navigating our way out of the gorge and ended up taking a very pretty, but unnecessary detour through a field of olive trees and yellow daisies.
Doubling back on ourselves, after an extra 30 mins and a few kilometres, we got back on track to walk back to Rethmyno. The first half of this walk was a pleasant stroll on a very minor road, but as we neared the town, the roads got busier, and much less scenic, until we hit the beach. And that was still not the end of it as the beach is long, and it felt like miles as we walked back to the old town. Beautiful and serene, looking out into the infinity of the ocean, but with aching limbs, by this point we just wanted a sit down, an ice-cream and to get back to our apartment.
Forgive the pun, but it was a gorge-ous walk, a lovely way to spend a Spring day in Rethmyno.
